The Smuggler: A Tale. Volumes I-IIIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Smuggler: A Tale. Volumes I-III
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Kent (England) -- Fiction; Smugglers -- Fiction
There was a sweet and frank confession in her words that pleased Digby
well; and leaving her with a heart at rest on his own account, he
mounted his horse and rode rapidly away towards the quarters of Sir
Henry Leyton.
CHAPTER VII.
The reader has doubtless remarked--for every reader who peruses a book
to any purpose must remark everything, inasmuch as the most important
events are so often connected with insignificant circumstances, that
the one cannot be understood without the other--the reader has
doubtless remarked, that Mr. Radford, on leaving Sir Robert Croyland,
informed his unhappy victim, that he had still a good deal of business
to do that night. Now, during the day he had--as may well be judged
from his own statement of all the preparations he had already
made--done a great deal of very important business; but the details of
his past proceedings I shall not enter into, and only beg leave to
precede him by a short time, to the scene of those farther operations
which he had laid out as the close of that evening's labours. It is to
the lone house, as it was called, near Iden Green, that I wish to
conduct my companions, and a solitary and gloomy looking spot it was,
at the time I speak of. All that part of the country is now very
thickly inhabited: the ground bears nearly as large a population as it
can support; and though there are still fields, and woods, and
occasional waste places, yet no such events could now happen as those
which occurred eighty or a hundred years ago, when one might travel
miles, in various parts of Kent, without meeting a living soul. The
pressure of a large population crushes out the bolder and more daring
sorts of crime, and leaves small cunning to effect, in secret, what
cannot be accomplished openly, under the police of innumerable eyes.
But it was not so in those days; and the lone house near Iden Green,
whatever it was originally built for, had become the refuge and the
lurking-place of some of the most fierce and lawless men in the
country. It was a large building, with numerous rooms and passages;
and it had stables behind it, but no walled courtyard; for the close
sweeping round of the wood, a part of which still exists in great
beauty, was a convenience on which its architect seemed to have
calculated. Standing some way off the high road, and about half a mile
from Collyer Green, it was so sheltered by trees that, on whichever
side approached, nothing could be seen but the top of the roof and
part of a garret-window, till one was within a short distance of the
edifice. But that garret-window had its advantages; for it commanded a
view over a great part of the country, on three sides, and especially
gave a prospect of the roads in the neighbourhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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